Christmas in DC
by politicsandprose00
Summary: Olivia and Fitz vignettes set during the holiday season. The first chapter is Olitz post-Olivia's resignation in 208 and the following chapters are set during the campaign trail. Angst and fluff are a guarantee. Constructive criticism encouraged because this is my first stab at fanfic. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

"5, 4, 3, 2,1!"

Though Olivia visited the Ellipse this time every year, her eyes never failed to widen with wonder when the national Christmas lit up. She quietly hummed along to "O Christmas Tree" as the band started to play.

He was directly in her line of vision. Her heart reflexively sped up watching Fitz, as he swayed side to side in time to the music, lovingly cradle Karen with one arm and wrap the other around Gerry.

It's the most wonderful time of the year, she thought to herself bitterly. Truth was she couldn't help the amusement that curved up the corners of her mouth as she watched Fitz bellow off-key in a duet with Gerry to "Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer".

Fitz had delusions of grandeur when it came to his singing ability, boasting that it had been his serenading of Olivia with Sinatra's "Here's to Love" that had finally won her over.

Olivia could feel the oncoming tears pricking at the back of her eyes. Normally she would've steeled herself and willed those tears into defying gravity, but on this night, she allowed them to flow. It was a freeing experience; taking in Fitz's joyful celebration with his family confirmed that it had been the right decision to resign. There was no denying to herself that she loved this man, she loved him like she had never loved anyone before, sometimes even believing that she would give up just about anything for

him. And she did. Olivia acerbically chuckled to herself. She gave up her integrity, her belief in the fairness of the democratic system, her sense of morality. For what? To give Fitz what he wanted, what he deserved, to bestow the country with a worthy leader.

Fitz looked so happy up there with his family, she reflected. He looked like he had everything in the world, as though he weren't missing a thing in his perfect, white picketed - no- white housed life.

Olivia's diaphragm clenched when Fitz leaned over and kissed Mellie on the cheek. Her lungs constricted at the loving gaze he directed at his wife while mouthing "Merry Christmas" to her. A self-satisfied smirk found its way on her face when she noticed Fitz's left fist curled tight. Of course. Fitz always unconsciously curled his left fist when he was playing nice with someone he couldn't stand. Yet at present, Olivia derived little pleasure in knowing his ins and outs.

What right? What right did she have to feel this way? Olivia sharply inhaled the crisp winter air and mentally shook herself. She had no right to feel this way. He was the married President of the United States, and she had left him when she had promised to always be by his side.

Indignation surged through Olivia. But he had no right. He had no right to ask her to wait for him-not while he was married. Despite all of Fitz's grand proclamations and whispered incantations of his undying love, the harsh reality of their situation had to hit at some point, Olivia told herself.

Best to have cut it off when everything was neat and contained. Before the situation unravelled into a muddy mess of unchecked emotion. Before rumours spread among the White House aides and found its way into the press. Definitely. Karen and Gerry didn't deserve to see their father devolve into a national punch line. Olivia refused to play the Lewinsky to his Clinton in the sordid tale that would play out on news stands and television screens. It was simpler this way. And if she repeated the mantra to herself enough times, she would start believing it too.


	2. Chapter 2

"Tell me a secret."

"Tell you a secret? Hmmm...I dunno, I have many. Would you like to hear about the bank heist or the insider trading?", Olivia playfully smirks as she flips her head, resting the cool side of her cheek on the warm pillow.

Fitz rolls his eyes in mock annoyance, "Fine. It doesn't have to be a secret. Just tell me something about you that I don't already know."

Olivia considers for a second, " My favourite time of year is Christmas season."

"Why is that?"

"Besides the blatant consumerism?" Olivia replies with a harsher than intended sardonic tinge. "Everything just feels different during Christmas season. Everyone feels more

giving and there's a generosity of spirit that isn't present during other times of the year. And the music, of course."

" Really? What's your favourite Christmas song?" Fitz asks, intrigued.

" That, sir, is a secret. If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Olivia flips her face back towards Fitz. His eyes twinkle as he runs his thumb tantalizingly along her jaw, coaxing a reluctant smile out of Olivia.

"Come on..."

"I can't and I won't. It's embarrassing."

"How about I guess?" Fitz tilts his head slightly and smirks, "Give daddy some sugar if I get it right?"

Olivia groans, " Fitz, please don't ever, ever use that phrase again. But fine, go ahead and guess. I bet you'll never get it anyway."

He gives his chin an exaggerated tap, hems and haws for a second, " Mariah Carey's All I Want for Christmas is you."

Olivia is stunned for a second before suspiciously narrowing her eyes, " How did you guess? I've never told anyone that."

A wry smile plays along Fitz's lips, " the NSA."

"Fitz..." Olivia pointedly looks at him.

" Wait a second, I got it right. First, sugar."

"Fine." Olivia rolls her eyes at his corniness and chastely brushes his cheek with her lips.

Taking advantage of her precarious position on the bed, Fitz gently but firmly flips Olivia underneath and plants feathery light kisses on her, tenderly rubbing his nose against hers before pulling Olivia on top of him.

" So how did you guess?"

Fitz grudgingly allows Olivia to roll off of him, "You hum Mariah songs under your breath when you're stressed. When you're looking at poll numbers or strategizing by yourself in the corner, you get this look of intense concentration on your face. And you start humming Mariah songs. It's quiet. I don't think anyone who wasn't paying attention would notice. The first time I noticed, you were humming "We Belong Together". Initially I thought you were coming onto me-which, of course, you were." Fitz's mouth quirks. "So I figure that you're something of a Mariah Carey fan. Not to mention the song is insanely catchy."

"Do I?" Olivia ponders for a second before sheepishly admitting, " I do, don't I? I can't believe you noticed. I barely notice that I'm doing it."

" Well, Olivia Pope. You're not as big a mystery as you think you are."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Happy holidays to all! I'm not in love with this chapter because it reads somewhat disjointed to me, but I felt like I had to upload this before Christmas. Thoughts, comments and criticisms are encouraged!**

"When did you tell Karen and Jer that Santa Claus didn't exist?"

Sally had bombed her first vice-presidential debate, allowing Reston to pull 3 points ahead of Fitz in the latest New Hampshire polls, and consequently, had put a damper on their fundraising. Using all manners of her persuasive skills and under the guise of cheering Fitz's spirits, Olivia had succeeded in wrangling a dispirited Fitz away from Cyrus and the daily campaign grind for a moment. Now they found themselves munching on apple pie in Lou's, a local Portsmouth café, with a rare moment to themselves, accompanied by the discreetly positioned secret service agents, of course.

Fitz slowly chewed while he considered, savoring the play of the flaky, buttery crust against the tartly sweet apple filling. A contemplative frown creased his face as he swallowed the remainder of his pie. " I don't believe I ever told them. They figured it out on their own. Jerry was, I think, ten when they both stopped leaving cookies out for Santa. Why do you ask?"

Olivia gave Fitz a sympathetic smile, " Well at least you never spoiled it for them. I used to- my mom and I used to leave apple pie out for Santa. My rationale was that Santa would get sick of eating so many cookies and would appreciate something different."

A lopsided grin arose on Fitz's face; of course young Olivia would be the only kid in the world who would consider the Santa snack situation from everyone's perspective, even jolly old saint nick's. Olivia continued, " Before Maya died, she and I would set out apple pie every Christmas night, and every following morning, that plate would be clean as a whistle. I spent exactly one Christmas with Rowan after she disappeared. That Christmas, the apple pie I set out was untouched." A mordant chortle escaped from Olivia, "That's the day I realized Santa wasn't real, and that it had been Maya all along."

Fitz's heart retro-actively ached for Olivia; that a child be simultaneously hit with a reminder of her mother's disappearance and with the discovery that Santa was fictional on Christmas day almost seemed like too cruel a fate for anyone to endure. He reached across the table to comfort Olivia but she reflexively scooted her hand to the side, silently signalling to Fitz through eyes as big as quarters not to forget that they were surrounded by other people. Feeling chided and slightly abashed, Fitz pulled his hand back. Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. Fitz breathed a sigh of frustration.

Later that night Fitz knocked on Olivia's hotel room door wearing an impish, slightly guilt-ridden look- Olivia had deemed after-hour sneak outs on the general election campaign trail too risky. Olivia shot him an exasperated look, "Fitz? What are you doing here? I thought we agreed-"

"I know, Livvie. And I'm sorry for breaking your rule. I just- I just had to see you. That was the first time you actually talked about Maya with me. I'm sorry, Livvie. I had no idea."

Olivia's face flickered back and forth between her well-worn mask of stoic confidence and a less familiar expression of child-like hurt and vulnerability. She had coped. Or rather, she had learned to banish most thoughts of her long dead mother to the dusty, rarely explored crevices of her memory, forcing herself not to wallow in those emotions. So when she had brought up Maya, those emotions had stayed buried, and her stiff upper lip had stayed the course. It never occurred to Olivia that Fitz would remember or follow up.

Olivia's face crumpled. It wasn't the memory of Maya that did it, it was the fact that someone, that Fitz cared and dared to follow up; not that Cyrus or Abby or Huck didn't care, they just never had the gumption to go prodding in Olivia's past, something they knew Olivia kept shuttered away. To Abby, Huck and Cyrus, she was warrior, savior, fixer, always. It didn't serve them or Olivia's reputation well to invite complexity to such staunch notions. She had to be beyond reproach, beyond vulnerability. Because if the warrior was exhausted, the savior needed a shoulder and the fixer needed fixing, well then, who would be there to catch the kings, queens, prime ministers, presidents and titans of industry when they fell?

"Liv-"

Fitz's words were cut off by the choke of emotions rising in his chest. He stepped into the room, closed the door and enveloped a silently tearful Olivia into his arms as his own rivulets of tears ran. It was the first time that Olivia had thoroughly lowered her guard in front of Fitz. She was always so controlled-when Sally bombed the debate, when Fitz proclaimed his love for her, she had responded to both situations in kind, with cool reservation. With Sally, though, Olivia's coolness was backed by preparation, experience and a dexterous mind. With Fitz, Olivia was lost at sea, instantly clinging to her go-to response of practiced calm like a life jacket. Still, Fitz had recognized a kindred damaged spirit in Olivia, yet, he was wholly unprepared for the acute degree to which Olivia's pain would affect his countenance.

As Olivia continued to soundlessly sob into his chest, he gently stroked the back of her head and kissed her forehead. His whisper was as soft as it was aching." Livvie, I know how hard this is for you. I just-I just want you to know that I'll always be here. You can always count on my shoulder to cry on. " Olivia leaned back, sniffled and nodded with a vaguely embarrassed look on her face, mumbling, " Thanks, but I'd rather just forget that this ever happened. I don't know what came over me." Fitz tilted Olivia's bleary, red-eyed face upwards and tenderly kissed her tear-streaked cheeks. Appreciating that Olivia had reached her limits for the moment, he lightly chuckled and attempted to lighten the mood. " So it's agreed then. We are never, ever ruining the fantasy of Santa Claus for our kids."

Ordinarily Olivia would've rolled her eyes at Fitz's matter-of-fact reference to their fantasy kids, but for just tonight, she allowed herself to indulge, to believe, however fleetingly, that fantasy could portend future. Pursing her lips winsomely, Olivia shot Fitz a mischievous look, "Well then, you're going to have to convince Lou to share his apple pie recipe with you because there is no way Santa is eating store-bought apple pie."


End file.
